


Memorable

by keep_waking_up



Series: Mr. and Mr. Smith [1]
Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, Face-Sitting, Frottage, M/M, Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-12
Updated: 2016-07-12
Packaged: 2018-07-23 14:59:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7468044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keep_waking_up/pseuds/keep_waking_up
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jensen doesn't normally have sex in the city he lives in. He makes an exception. </p><p> </p><p>(Or the first meeting).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Memorable

**Author's Note:**

  * For [alycat](https://archiveofourown.org/users/alycat/gifts), [kelios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kelios/gifts).



> I have owed Alycat and Kelios 20k of J2 Mr. and Mrs. Smith AU for about two years now. Because I'm a shit, this is way late, but have the first 2k of it!

“Hey.”

It was his first night back in town. He’d just stopped by this hotel to take care of a quick piece of work—cheating banker, jealous wife, an easy exchange of money for an easy job, not really his typical style, but it made his boss happy. The drink afterwards had been spur of the moment; just way to relax after a long day of a travel and a satisfying job. The tall, intensely good looking man approaching him hadn’t really been part of the plan.

“Hey,” Jensen replied, looking through his eyelashes at the other man before taking a long sip of his bourbon. He had to admit, the offer clearly being made was tempting.

Jensen normally avoided encounters of a sexual nature when he was in LA. He was out of town on jobs often enough that it wasn’t too difficult to find a one night stand after he took care of his mark-of-the-week. And exotic locations led to exotic sex with exotic people, windows open so the smell of the air could waft around them, daring them to leave their inhibitions behind and give into their desires. Jensen remembered vividly the way his last partner had squirmed beneath him, afraid someone would walk by her beach villa and hear the way she moaned as he tied her up in ever more complicated knots. He’d almost felt bad about killing her father afterwards. Almost.

Sex—especially the kind of sex he liked to have—was generally a memorable experience unless copious amounts of alcohol were involved. And he did not want to be memorable, not in LA where he had to live and shop and eat. Better that he moved like a ghost through his city, occasionally leaving an immaculately clean corpse behind.

Still, this man made him reconsider his usual rules. It tended to be difficult to find someone significantly taller and bigger. Jensen’s height wasn’t anything to sniff at and he occasionally had to scale the sides of buildings for his job; he was in pretty good shape. This man, though. He was the kind of muscular that meant he lived for the gym and probably tall enough that he was in the 99th percentile. In LA, it was no surprise to find someone who looked good enough to be a movie star; they were probably trying to become one. But there was something interesting about this man’s face that went beyond simple beauty. His features were interesting, dynamic; he looked like the sort of person who should be photographed at extreme angles and in black-and-white film so the camera could dwell on his face, on the hollows of his cheeks, the dents of his dimples, and the wicked slant of his eyes.

“I could try to the model line, if you wanted,” the man said, nearly echoing Jensen’s thoughts.

“Line?” Jensen asked lightly, and wasn’t surprised when the man took at it as an invitation to sit down on the stool beside him.

“You know.” The man waved his arms demonstratively, although what he was trying to demonstrate wasn’t quite clear. “ ‘You’re so gorgeous, you have to be a model.’ ” He tilted his head as he examined Jensen’s face, clearly weighing whether Jensen actually _was_ a model or not.

Jensen twisted in his seat so that the light better hit his face. “What’d you think?” He questioned and pursed his lips a little in a mocking exaggeration of a typical billboard expression.

The man grinned and reached forward (slowly, which was good or Jensen might have broken his wrist on reflex) to hold Jensen’s chin and gently angle his face for a better look. “Well, you’d definitely make the cut,” he drawled. “But somehow I think that’s not the case. You ever noticed the _really_ gorgeous people often end up working the most boring jobs? It’s like they’re hiding in plain sight.”

Jensen couldn’t help laughing; if there was one thing his job was not, it was boring. But his cover certainly fit the description. “You got me,” he said, toasting his companion. “Accountant for an architecture firm.”

“Computer technician,” the man returned, lifting his own glass. “We’re both too gorgeous for our jobs. We should run away and protest.”

It was no use; Jensen was going to sleep with the guy, rules or no rules. He gave up any pretense that he was not and turned fully in his seat to face his partner. “Well, gorgeous,” he returned, “I’m all up for the running away, but how about we do something better with our time than just protest?”

Slanted eyes sparkled and the other man threw the rest of his drink back in one swig. With a grin, he dropped the empty glass back on the bar. “Sounds like a plan to me.” He adjusted his jacket and glanced briefly up at the ceiling. “You got a room here?”

“No,” Jensen answered, then threw his own drink back, letting the man get a good look at his throat while he swallowed. When he’d finished, the man had scooted a good half a foot closer. “You?”

“Nope.” The man drummed his fingers on the bar. “We could get one though.”

“We could,” Jensen answered, and stood in one smooth movement. “Coming?”

The other man nearly bounced at his side while they walked towards the concierge. “I’m Jared, by the way.”

When Jensen smiled up at Jared, he made sure it was all teeth. “Jensen. Split on the room?”

Jensen liked having to look up at Jared to see his equally toothy grin in return. “Sounds like a plan.”

 

*

 

The room had a king size bed, two full length mirrors, and four windows. There was no fire escape, but Jensen was pretty sure he could repel down from the window ledge if he needed to. If he’d been planning to kill someone in this room, he would have scoped it out more thoroughly. But he wasn’t going to kill anyone unless Jared pulled a knife on him, so he gave the room the bare minimum sweep before he turned and pushed Jared down onto the bed.

“Oooh, aggressive, I like it.” The wink Jared gave him—overdone, overblown, intentionally cheesy—should have made him roll his eyes, but Jensen was a bit dismayed to find it only made him hornier. It made him want to push Jared down and ride his dick until Jared couldn’t make any of his cute little quips anymore.

“Darling, you ain’t seen nothing,” Jensen drawled back, letting the accent he hadn’t had since he was sixteen thicken his voice. Slowly, he slid his suit jacket off, one arm at a time, and laid it carefully over the desk chair. When he looked back over at Jared, the other man had only moved to prop himself up on his elbows. He clearly intended to watch Jensen strip like it was a show, which Jensen wasn’t necessarily _opposed_ to, but… “Don’t just watch,” he ordered. “Nudity should be quid pro quo, don’t you think?” When Jared moved as if to sit up all the way, Jensen tilted his head and smirked. “And don’t get up.”

Already narrow eyes narrowed further. “Making a man get undressed while flat on his back. You’re mean, Jensen.” Far from acting like it was a problem, Jared sounded positively gleeful. He writhed on the bed, hips rolling upwards, as he attempted to get his—very tight—suit jacket off. It could have been decidedly ungraceful and uncoordinated. It was not. It only seemed to display the barely constrained power of Jared’s body.

When the jacket was off, Jared’s eyes met Jensen’s once more, and they both reached for the top button of their shirts at the same time. It was an odd tease as they maintained that eye contact even they deftly undid each button. Jensen couldn’t see anything of Jared’s chest but what he could glimpse in his peripheral vision, and he knew the same was true for Jared. Each button meant more was being revealed, but still was unseen.

Jared had to break eye contact to ease his shirt over his shoulders, and Jensen took the opportunity to feast his eyes on a chest that really _did_ look like it should have been on billboards. The fact that Jared spent his days cooped up working on computers was truly an injustice. Jensen could imagine the ripple of those abs as Jared fucked up into someone, the way those biceps would bulge as pulled someone up and down on top of him…

That image was about all it took for Jensen to lose any grasp on his patience. He’d shucked his remaining clothes by the time Jared’s shirt hit the floor.

When Jared looked back up, he grinned. “I think you’re beating me at this whole nudity thing. And I gotta tell you, I don’t like to lose.”

Jensen shrugged carelessly, even as he sauntered forward. “Well, maybe you just need a little help to get back on top.” Agonizingly slowly, he unbuttoned Jared’s suit pants, letting his fingers brush and linger against the bulge underneath whenever possible, even as he pulled the zipper down. Once that was done, he grabbed the waistband and promptly yanked the pants off in one move, complete with briefs. 

Jared gave an excited little whoop of laughter and reached up to pull Jensen down onto him. Running a hand possessively through Jensen’s hair, he said, “I’d really rather have you on top, if you don’t mind.”

Jensen let his legs fall so he was effectively straddling Jared and rolled their hips together, just so he could feel the sensual drag of skin against skin. “Mmmm…” he hummed agreeably, and pulled Jared’s other hand around to cup his ass. “I could be amendable to that… but I really shouldn’t have to do _all_ the work, don’t you think?”

Jared squeezed his ass, almost possessively. “Well,” he said, faux-nonchalant, “I’ve been told my face is surprisingly comfortable to sit on, if you’re interested.”

Interested was a mild word for it. Jensen had to struggle not to look overeager. He took his sweet time crawling his way up Jared’s body until he was finally positioned over Jared’s mouth. He waited until Jared’s hands both found their way down to kneed his ass before he commanded “now” and let his weight sink lower.

Unsurprisingly, given the fact that he’d been the one to suggest it, Jared was a few steps beyond enthusiastic. Although he never tried to pull Jensen any further down and took whatever Jensen gave him, his lips and tongue were aggressive as he lapped Jensen open. He didn’t waste much time with the preliminaries, going in as deep as he could whenever he could. He even let his teeth scrape gently over Jensen’s rim a few times, sending a shudder down Jensen’s spine.

The best part was that he was undeniably sloppy. Jensen didn’t think he would need much lube after the job Jared had done, although he was a bit concerned about the ability of his thighs to do the necessary lifting. When Jensen finally was able to pull himself back, Jared’s face was wet with his own salvia as well. Like the gentleman he was, Jensen leaned forward to lick it off and they ended up kissing.

They’d mostly avoided that before, perhaps unintentionally, but perhaps not. For his part, Jensen tended to be much more interested in getting to the main event than dealing with foreplay like making out. But Jared kissed the same way he ate Jensen out: aggressively and like it was only a shadow of an intimation of the way he could fuck. Jensen couldn’t stop himself from getting a handful of that long hair, pulling Jared’s head back, and just kissing the shit out of him.

It all ended up getting just a bit out of hand. They were making out like horny teenagers on a time limit and their bodies kept rocking against each other more and more frantically as the kissing somehow continued to escalate. The light sheen of sweat that had been present on Jared from almost the beginning of their encounter smoothed the way for their bodies to roll and grind against each other helplessly. Jensen snapped his hips liked he somehow was fucking Jared, or like Jared was fucking him, and he couldn’t quite understand how a kiss had made him so goddamn hot, but he wasn’t going to pull away to find out.

It was actually getting hard to breathe by the time Jared’s cry was muffled by Jensen’s mouth and he came between them. The kissing finally calmed down as he was distracted by his orgasm. Jensen gave up on trying to get them any further and sucked angry marks onto Jared’s throat as he reached down to take care of himself.

“Nah, gotcha,” Jared mumbled drowsily, and reached down to envelop Jensen’s cock in one of his large, hot hands. It took him three strokes before Jensen was full-out biting his neck and coming.

Jensen rolled off of him afterwards. They both stared up at the hotel ceiling. Jensen was only able to think of three potential ways to kill Jared if he really needed to; he was pretty sure his brain had shorted out. That was definitely memorable. His rules were smashed to smithereens.

“Damn,” Jared sighed disappointedly, still somehow managing to sound blissed out at the same time. Before Jensen could get too offended, he continued, “If that’s what _that_ was like, I bet you riding me would have been _insane_.”

Jensen rolled his head to the side to look at the other man. Jared looked genuinely put out that the orgasm had only been fantastic instead of mind-destroying. “I bet it would have been,” he replied.

“Well, if it’s a bet…” Jared drew the words out, a blinding grin spreading over his face. “I guess we’ll have to find out sometime.”

Jensen knew better than to agree. And yet. 

“I guess we will.”


End file.
